The Interrogation Of Dr Charles Eppes
by SignsOfSun
Summary: This is 100% percent silliness and fluff!


Title: The Interrogation Of Dr. Charles Eppes

Author: Signs Of Sun

Summary: Don't let the title fool you. This is complete fluff and a whole lot of silliness.

Silliness Warning! This has nothing to do with anything. Except that I might not be quite right in the head. And that's always good for a laugh or two I've been told.

~~~~~~~~~~loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_The Interrogation Of Dr. Charles Eppes_

Charlie's gaze searched his surroundings for any clue to where he might be. Off to his right he just found desks and people moving around on the other side of a large window. More of the same was laid out straight ahead of him. Finally to the left he came upon the sign on the wall over an entryway that came from a bank of elevators. _Bureau of Spelling and Grammar Enforcement _the words read.

"Bureau of Spelling and Grammar Enforcement?" he mumbled out loud.

"Yes. Dr. Eppes. We've been over this. I'm tired of this game. You're stalling!" a voice stated from off to his left. His gaze shot in that direction and found a man seated three feet away, leaned invasively in Charlie's direction. There was no table between them and Charlie suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable.

"Who are you?"

"For the ten thousandth time I'm Agent Word SpellCheck. Now that's the last time I'm going to give you my name. I'm not messing around here. Let's get back to the issue at hand."

"What issue?" Charlie asked. He noted that the man was neatly dressed in a button down shirt and business slacks. Normal attire, but what drew his attention was the badge clipped on his belt and the holster on his hip. By now Charlie was certainly used to seeing badges and holsters, but the holster warranted further scrutiny. He found that the holster didn't carry a gun. Instead it was occupied by a very large red marker.

"Earth to Dr. Eppes."

"Huh? What?"

"About time. Okay, now, back to what you've done."

"What I have done. I haven't done anything!"

"You're lying!"

"No. I'm not. I'm not lying."

"Yes you are because we have proof. Proof that you we're told the proper way to spell it."

"What? When?"

"Don't play dumb with me! You know what I've talking about!"

"I swear I don't."

"We have witnesses you know."

"Witnesses to what? I don't even know what you're talking about."

"Witnesses that you were told how to spell the word _anomaly_."

"How to spell anomaly?"

"Quit stalling! Your brother and your father were both present at the time you were shown the dictionary with the proper spelling of the word anomaly."

"Neither of them would talk to you about my spelling."

"They would if they thought they were helping you. They just want to get you help, Dr. Eppes. They've tried everything else. They thought maybe a little tough love would get you to change your spelling ways. They gave you up."

"This is a trick. They would never talk to you about me."

"You're brother is finishing up his statement down the hall from here as we speak."

"Then it would be possible for you to prove that. Show me where he is."

"Do you really want to put him through seeing you in custody? Haven't you caused enough hurt with your bad spelling?"

"They were just trying to distract me from our chess game. It's the only way they had a shot at winning," Charlie said softly.

"Oh I see it's all their fault is it?"

"It's true!"

"You're a little jealous of the good spellers in your family, aren't your Dr. Eppes? A little resentful that they can spell and you can't. Must be infuriating? That why you continue to spell badly just to rebel?"

"There is nothing wrong with my spelling."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It's so!"

The agent rose from his seat and departed the room for just a breath. When he returned he was carrying a large file box. He tore off the lid and tossed it aside.

"Like this!" he stated, pulling a piece of paper from the contents of the box and dropping it on the table in front of Charlie. Red circles marred the page. Each circle had a number beside it.

"Or this?" he inquired, removing more papers from the box and spreading them on the table top.

"How about this?" the agent spat out and retrieved a thick bound document.

"What is that?"

"This is the draft of that book of yours. In all my days as an agent I can say I've seen bad spelling but nothing-_nothing_-prepared me for this kind of cruelty to words!" Agent SpellCheck stated and disgustedly tossed the first draft of _The Attraction Equation_ onto the table. Charlie flipped throught the pages. His eyes skimming all the red marks, circled words that indicated supposed misspellings.

"There's a logical explanation for all of these," he finally commented and closed the book.

"Really? All those spelling errors in your handwriting? Let me guess you're going to say you were framed."

"Someone could have tampered with these samples."

"They're not samples. They're evidence. You see each of these numbers. Those are evidence numbers. At last count our spelling crime analysts reported they numbered well into the triple digits. Do you have any clue what the sentence is for serial bad spelling?"

"Doesn't matter because I'm innocent."

"Innocent huh?"

"Yeah. That's what I said."

"Just last night you we're playing Scrabble with your father and brother, weren't you?"

"Weren't you?" the agent demanded when Charlie just stared back at him.

"I can't say as I recall," Charlie replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"We have the Scrabble board. We can forensically track the game. We can recreate the words you used."

"Wait a minute! No you can't! That's absurd!"

"Ever heard of a Scrabble reconstructionists?" Agent SpellCheck asked, a cocky expression on his face.

"Actually no I haven't."

"Well, as we speak our team is lifting impressions and employing other techniques to give us a nice long list of the words you used or tried to use. I'm sure your brother and father cut you off before you got away with too much. But trust me we'll have that list any second. And that combined with statements about what you tried to pull from your family. You're going down, Eppes. You might as well cooperate and maybe I'll see about some leniency."

"The statements might be admissible but the reconstruction is that even based on scientific methods? Since I've never heard of it-that's unlikely-and I'm sure it's not admissible."

"Ah! You left out one crucial detail. There was a dictionary present during the incident."

"They have never proven it was a reliable dictionary!" Charlie rebutted.

"That dictionary was taken into evidence and analyzed. It's a Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. It's been authenticated. But you already knew that, didn't you Dr. Eppes?"

"Did you ever consider that just because that's the one you took from the house that it wasn't switched?"

"You're making this harder than it has to be. Just admit what you've done. It'll feel better once you do," Agent SpellCheck offered in a quiet voice.

"I'm not going to confess to something I didn't do." There was a moment of silence that followed Charlie's words. The other man flipped through the case file in his hand, skimming the details there.

"You know I can see how some of these might have been accidents. That you didn't really mean to misspell the words. You're a busy guy, right? That's it, isn't it? Some of them were just terrible accidents?"

"I've done nothing wrong," Charlie stated unfalteringly.

"C'mon Dr. Eppes. We both know…" Agent Spell Check began. His latest attempt was cut short by a quick knock on the door. Charlie turned to look and SpellCheck got up from his seat and greeted the man at the door. They whispered an exchange for a few seconds then SpellCheck headed out the doorway and the new guy headed inside.

"Is the interrogation over now?" Charlie called out as the agent was departing.

"Ours is for now!" he replied.

"What do you mean by that?"

"There's another unit that wishes to ask you a few questions."

"Questions about what? What unit? You've got to believe me this is all one big misunderstanding."

"That's what all the really bad spellers say!" The agent grumbled and headed out into the other room. As he departed the other man came further into the room.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Agent Rearview Mirror. I'm with the Driving Behavior Investigation Unit. And we're going to have a little chat about your bad driving."

"I'm not a bad driver. I simply err on the side of caution. But there's absolutely nothing wrong with that."

"Oh really? The FBI driving instructor you worked with a while ago says differently," the agent replied, taking the seat that had been abandoned by Agent SpellCheck.

"I followed the instructions that were given to me."

"You killed a mailbox!" Agent Mirror declared, slamming his fist down on the edge of the table to his right. The T_hump!_ sound it created caused Charlie to jump a little in his seat. The agent noticed the jolt that tore through his body and pushed onward.

"Yeah that's right. He gave you up!"

"I did the best I could under the circumstances. It was only my first attempt and there was a lot to check track of!" Charlie blurted out uncontrollably.

"That doesn't bring the mailbox back now does it, Dr. Eppes?"

"I suppose not. But it was never my intention to do any damage."

"Well you did!" Agent Mirror snarled.

"I just need more practice. He was pressuring me to hurry."

"Tell that to the group of cones you brutally mowed down that day."

"Cones?"

"Yes Professor. Cones. You didn't even acknowledge their existence did you? _Did you?" _the agent demanded.

"I suppose now that you mention it there were cones lining the way."

"Yes there were. Those orange cones were just standing there doing their job. You plowed right into their line. Two didn't make it. Three were damaged so badly that they can't go back out on the course anymore."

"That is not what happened at all!"

"We have the cones Professor Eppes. So don't try to play me."

"So you have the cones. That doesn't make it me who ran them over. There were other people on that course that day!" Charlie argued back.

"Oh here we go. The classic draw attention away from yourself and onto someone else routine. That's low."

"Now wait a minute! If you target me to the exclusion of all other possible trajectories then your conclusions are more than likely invalid. Because you haven't included all the pertinent variables into the calculations and filtered out any extraneous data."

"What? Is that some sort of gibberish to lay the foundation an insanity defense?" Agent Mirror tossed out, a bit of confusion escaping through his tough guy routine.

"Certainly not! I was simply analyzing the logic of your statement."

"You know what's logical. That the guy who according to witnesses causes a line of horn blowing in his wake is the one who took out those orange cones and killed that mailbox!"

"Now that part about horn blowing is just a complete fabrication."

"Quit fighting it, Dr. Eppes. It'll be such a weight off when you just tell me what you did."

"Agent SpellCheck already tried that one on me."

"Is that right, genius?"

"That's correct. Tried and failed which is why he's out there and not still in here trying to coerce a confession out of me."

"You think Agent SpellCheck is out there, instead of in here, because you deterred him?" Agent Mirror inquired with a smirk in his tone.

"I'm innocent. Therefore, eventually he was going to run out of things to try."

"Agent SpellCheck is out there because he's setting up the Spelling Bee Line Up."

"The what?"

"Spelling Bee Line Up. You know where you have to stand up there and spell words. Lots of words! Any word you misspell can be used against you in the classroom."

"I'd like to invoke my right to counsel!"

"I bet you would! Write down the name and number of the English teacher you like to represent you. We'll give them a call for you," the other man stated and handed Charlie and notepad and pen.

"Now back to your driving," the agent continued as Charlie scribbled.

"When I said I wanted counsel I wanted it for that too."

"That's your right. Just jot down the name of the driving education instructor you would like to represent you." In response Charlie wrote out the names of an English professor and his driver's education instructor. He held it out to the agent. The offering remained unaccepted while Agent Mirror added further comment on the situation.

"Oh and in case you weren't aware. We're perfectly within rights to run that Spelling Bee Line Up before counsel arrives," the agent announced and then took the paper from Charlie. He exited the room, laughter escaping his body. Panic swelled up in Charlie. The thought of the Spelling Bee Line Up propelled him out of his chair and to the door. He tugged at the handle, but found it locked. Frantic he tugged harder. Over and over he tried to escape and failed.

"Charlie! Charlie!"

At hearing his name called he paused. That was his brother's voice calling him. He spun around, searching for Don. He looked through each of the windows but saw no sign of him. Thinking he would try the door once again he turned that way. Tugging at the handle the voice came again.

"Charlie!" Don voice's urged him. Charlie felt a hand land on his shoulder and he closed his eyes in dread of what was going to happen next.

"Charlie! Charlie! Wake up!" his brother demanded and Charlie finally peeked open his eyes.

"Huh? What?" he mumbled, finding himself no longer in the interrogation room but his own living room. Don was looking down at him from over where Charlie lay on the couch.

"You with me now?" Don asked.

"Yeah. Yeah." Charlie responded. It seemed to satisfy his brother who sat down in the chair beside the couch.

"You were rolling around in your sleep. You almost fell off the couch," Don commented, picking his beer up off the table and taking a sip.

"I did?"

"Yeah. You did. What was all that about?"

"Rough dream."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"Nah! I'm okay."

"You're sure?" Charlie was silent for a moment, but ended up compelled to talk.

"Don, it was terrifying!"

"Aww buddy! What was it about?"

"You know how we were playing Scrabble with Dad earlier? It…it was…"

"Oh bro! Did you have another one of your post Scrabble nightmares again?" Charlie looked down, nodding his head sheepishly in the positive. He could feel Don's gaze on him.

"It was horrible!" he finally managed.

"Well, it's over now. No one here is going to pressure you to spell anything," his brother half reassured, half teased.

"Don?"

"Yep."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure buddy."

"You would never…I mean…you would never give me up right? You know about my spelling," Charlie inquired hesitantly. Mostly he was joking around, but there was a little something serious to the question too. Don caught onto what he was doing and both reassured and played it up for fun at the same time when he responded.

"It was just a dream Charlie. If that that Agent…uh? What's that's guy's name that's always in them? Agent SpellCheck?"

"Yes. That's him."

"Well if Agent SpellCheck ever comes round asking about you all he'll get from me is a whole lot of door in his face."

"For real?" Charlie tossed out. Now they were really messing around.

"For real. Your secret is safe with me. We've got to keep the skeletons in the family closet after all."

"Does that mean you'll never make me play Scrabble again?" Charlie asked, returning to seriousness for a moment.

"Chuck, that has to be the most ridiculous question I've ever heard."

"Ridiculous? How so?"

"Do you even need to ask to know that answer to that?"

"Apparently so."

"You're my little brother who can't spell to save his life. Scrabble will never go away. Ever!"

"Yeah I really should have known the answer to that," Charlie commented and shifted into a sitting position on the couch. His brother got up from his chair while Charlie rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Taking off?" Charlie questioned as Don headed across the room.

"Nah! Just getting another beer."

"Oh!" Charlie tossed back. Don had gone a few steps towards the threshold into the other room but paused before making it all the way.

"Here this will protect while I'm gone!" Don stated, pulling a book from the bookcase, returning back to the couch, and handing it to his brother.

"Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary?" Charlie questioned.

"Yeah just in case the Spelling Police stop by while I'm in the kitchen!" Don called out and headed out again in search of a second beer. The laugh he was holding back shone through in his tone and facial expression.

"Now who's being ridiculous?" Charlie declared, following after his brother.

"At least I can spell the word ridiculous."

"Oh I can spell the word ridiculous. I use it frequently when describing my brother," Charlie stated emphatically as they arrived in the kitchen.

"Oh yeah…_Chuck_?" Don replied while retrieving a new beer from the refrigerator.

"Perfectly able to spell ridiculous…_Donald_."

"Okay bro! Lay it on me! Here's your opportunity to prove me wrong!" Don threw out and opened the beer bottle.

'Well, first we have to…"

"Stalling!"

"I'm not stalling."

"I'm an FBI agent. I know stalling when I hear it."

"I thought you said no one here was going to pressure me to spell anything!"

"I did no such thing."

"Yes. You did."

"No. I said that I knew how to spell ridiculous."

"Yes then I responded and you followed up by requesting I spell it."

"Give up this hopeless stalling technique and spell the word already!"

"Alright. But only to prove I am perfectly capable of doing so and not because my _much_ older brother told me to."

"I'm not hearing a whole lot of spelling going on here!"

"The word ridiculous is spelled…." Charlie took in a deep breath.

"Uh huh?"

"Would you give me a chance?"

"I've given you about a thousand already."

"Fine! It's spelled R-E-D-I…"

"Wrong!"

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I didn't have to. You barely made it out of the gate."

"It's not wrong."

"Charlie there's no E in the word ridiculous!"

"That's…well…ridiculous."

"There's no E. It's R-I-D-I-C-U-L-O-U-S."

"That's not right. There is an E. There's always been an E. It follows the…"

"I refer you to Mr. Webster and his properly spelled words." Don cut him off and tapped a finger on the cover of the dictionary in Charlie's hand. Then he departed through the doorway back towards the living room. Charlie trailed behind searching through the book until he came upon the R's. His finger ran down until it located the word. In overwhelmed disbelief he had to sit down on the end of the couch. Don had reclaimed his seat in the chair facing the television. For a moment the only sound in the room was the game his brother was watching. Charlie sat, transfixed, by the letters on the page.

"You okay? I know that must have been a blow to find about the E." Don finally asked softly, teasingly.

"Yeah I guess. But I'm still not convinced this is a reliable dictionary."

"How bout we play chess tomorrow night? Will that make you feel any better?" Don offered.

"Yes actually it might."

"Alright. Chess it is then."

"Thanks bro!"

"No problem."

"Now I might actually have some pleasant dreams tonight," Charlie said, depositing the dictionary on the coffee table. His brother's voice followed without pause.

"And tomorrow night I'll be the one having nightmares. Chess nightmares. Gigantic knights and bishops chasing me across a black and white checkered field gleefully yelling _Checkmate!_"

"Sounds terrifying!"

"Kind of like playing chess with you."

"Hey Don?"

"Yep."

"How do you feel about my driving?"

"I feel like staying off the road whenever you say you're going to be driving on it!"

"You do realize you're going down at chess tomorrow night after a comment like that?" Charlie asked, a smile growing on his face.

"Buddy, I've known that I was going down at chess every day since the first time I played you!"

"Oh! Game. Set. Match. To Charles Eppes!"

"That's tennis," Don interjected into his brother's celebration.

"I know. It just sounded good right then."

"Go back to sleep Scrabblehead! I'll wake you up if Agent SpellCheck shows up again."

"I don't know. Now it might be those gigantic chess pieces you were describing."

"In that case you're on your own!"

"Wait a minute! How will you know which one it is?"

"Our distress word is ridiculous."

"Our distress word? And why is it ridiculous?"

"No the word is ridiculous."

"I'm getting that, but _why_ is it ridiculous?"

"If you need me to wake you up call out the word _ridiculous_."

"Oh! Okay! As long as I don't have to spell it."

"Go to sleep Chuck!" Don insisted as Charlie settled back onto this spot on the couch. He pulled the throw blanket from the arm rest and covered himself up to his chest, burrowed his head deep into the pillow, and closed his eyes.

"You forgot this!" his brother's voice offered. He was about to open his eyes, but he felt Don tuck Webster and all his many words under his arm. Charlie hugged the dictionary and let weariness pull at him.

"Sleep well Scrabblehead!" he heard his brother's voice say as he drifted off to sleep.

_The End_


End file.
